See you around
by Fatal Overdose
Summary: Jack's been writing letters for a while now, but this is his last. Implied suicide, sadness, one-sided (sort of) Chack. Not as bad as it sounds, really.


**Hey! It's been a while! Really sorry, I've been kinda sick, and lost the will to do anything and everything, so... yeah. I'll work on that, I guess. I do write too much, though, I think there's four or five of my stories on the first page of Xiaolin Showdown if you go by most recent. If you, for some inexplicable reason, couldn't tell by the genre, this'll be depressing. **

A bot flew in through an open window.

It was another one of Spicer's creations, a smaller version of the attack robots he used, and it carried a white rectangle underneath it. Chase recognized it as being another letter from the self proclaimed 'evil genius', making that the fifth letter in as many weeks.

This was no longer an abnormal occurrence, but what happened next was. Normally, the little thing would hover nervously around the edge of the room and slowly approach the dragon, delivering the envelope. Instead, it flew right up to the warlord, completely unafraid. As per normal, he took the letter, crumpled it into a tiny ball of paper, and threw it seamlessly into the nearest wastebasket. The bot left immediately, but instead of hurrying out the window looking terrified (as terrified as a machine could look, anyway), it retrieved the slightly ruined envelope and gave it right back.

Experimentally, the immortal repeated the same procedure once again, and was faced with the same results. Accepting that it would continue this until it was either crushed or ran out of power, the dragon consented to read it.

_Hey Chase, _it read,

_Jack Spicer here, but you probably knew that already. _The warlord snorted.

_I've been trying to get you to pay attention to me for, well, since I met you, really, but I only recently started writing letters, which, I might add, you never bothered to read. Now I don't blame you, most people aren't worth your time. I'm not worth your time but this is pretty important. I took out the AI chip and programmed this robot to get you to read this no matter what. Stripping bots of their identity, even if it's not real, just feels cruel, so I just deactivated the rest. Had to, otherwise they'd stop me from- well, we'll get to that in a sec, I guess. __I'm gonna get right to the point here._

_I'm dead, Chase. _

_I know I am, because you're reading this, and it wasn't programmed to be sent to you unless I killed myself, exactly one day after my death, to be precise. I checked, and that's the limit for bringing a soul back, not that you'd bother bringing me back to life. That's why I had to disable the robots, they would've stopped me. _

_I have a couple things I'd like you to do, can't deny a man his last request, right? And if you don't want to, you can always ask the monks. First of all, in the basement, there's a giant red button, can't miss it. It'll reactivate my robots. I can't just leave them like that, it'll be like they died too, and they're the closest I've ever been to having actual friends. Pathetic, right?_

_The second thing, find my body. It's so weird thinking of it like that, but I guess that's all it is now. Just call an ambulance or something, doesn't matter, but it's in the nearest bathroom to the basement, just exit and turn left, third door down. My parents are in South America for another few days, and I don't want my mom to be the one to discover it. She's kind of a bi- not really nice to me, but she's still my mom, and what I'm going to do- what I **did** do- it isn't pretty._

_So, this is a suicide note. I guess now we get to the 'why' part, huh?_

_I guess the standard reasons, mommy and daddy didn't love me, I don't fit in anywhere, blah blah blah blah blah. I really don't. Most people just think they don't have a place because they get picked on at school or something, I dunno. It's true for me, though. _

_I'm not good enough to be a monk, but at least they tried for a little while. I'm not evil enough to fit in on the Heylin side either. You and Wuya and Hannibal always push me around, I get used all the time. I always know when it's happening, too. Here's the really pathetic part; when it's you, I don't mind being used. You could do whatever you wanted to me, torture me if you wanted to, and I'd just sit there and take it, just because you were actually paying attention to me for once, and I'd keep coming back like the pathetic little lapdog I am. I freaking love you, Chase. I said it, finally. But I got tired of... being ignored. I'm really scared to go through with this, now that I'm putting it all in writing.__  
_

_ I'm not even sure which is more cowardly, killing myself, or being afraid to. I think I'm too scared of life to keep living, but to afraid of death to do anything about it. I guess we see which fear won out, huh? I really hope you at least tell the monks about where I- my corpse is, if you don't do something about it yourself. I could have just dropped out of the Xiaolin-Heylin conflict, but I still wouldn't fit in. Hey, I'm dead, why bother sparing my own feelings? I'm a freak. I know it, you know it, the whole goddamn world knows it, anyone with working eyes can tell._

_This seems sorta like a ploy for attention. It is, in some bizzarre, twisted way, and I really hope it works, that I'm not so completely worthless to you that you'd even ignore my suicide note, because this is literally, if you're still reading this, the longest amount of time you've ever spent listening to me._

_Well, you're immortal, so chances are I won't be seeing you in hell for a really long time, but goodbye seems too final, so... See you later? Well, you might see me, or... what's left of me, anyway._

_See you around_

_~Jack Spicer, 'Evil Genius'_

This really was the longest amount of time he'd ever payed attention to the boy, wasn't it?

The robot hovered over his shoulder expectantly, even though it lacked any emotion, even just simulated ones. Chase carefully smoothed out the wrinkled paper and laid it out on the table. He had more letters to find and read, as well as a funeral to prepare for, despite the unfamiliar weight in the pit of his stomach.

**The ending kinda sucked... 'M really tired, and it's morning in a couple minutes... nghh...**


End file.
